How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity
by crisser
Summary: Blaine Anderson... Funny how the guy who hides behind his attitude and intimidates everyone also is the biggest virgin in the whole school. But not for much longer. Not when I'm done with him...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N.**

**First of all, I didn't have a beta for this one, I literally just wrote it, and it's past 2 am. All typos are my fault, and no you can't judge me. But if you find any you're more than welcome to tell. **

**I'm only writing this because of that freaking amazing gif set that had a seriously good AU, this one: gleeddicted(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/20964994555/klaine-au-god-anderson-is-such-a-virgin. I just couldn't resist, oops.**

**The rating is T right now... I hope *crosses fingers* that I won't be forced to change that. Also, I suck at rating things so sorry if this isn't T. You can turn back now in case you're not one for M fics...**

**I guess this would be the preface since it's really short and is mostly backstory (and by mostly I mean it is). I hope you like it anyway!**

**One last thing, this is Kurt's POV (I am so not used to writing this way but it was kinda fun), in case that isn't obvious...**

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. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._

_The Preface._

. . . . .

Blaine Anderson is seriously the hottest guy in all of McKinley High.

He could have anyone he wanted, but that was just the thing, wasn't it? He didn't want anyone.

There are several theories to this, the most popular one is that he's too intimidating. If someone tries to be nice to him or just talk to him, he looks at you like he's trying to come up with a way to kill you, and then bring you back to life just so that he can kill you all over again. But I have a different theory to this, one that no one else has thought of.

But to be fair to the ignorant kids walking the school grounds, why would someone even think of the possibility that the super hot and badass Blaine Anderson was a virgin?

Then there is the boxing, that was really how we met. Or to say, how I first noticed him. It was PE class sophomore year, and Blaine had walked up to the boxing sack with such determination that it was ridiculous. The teacher had tried to argue because we were specifically playing football that day. Blaine had then caused a huge scene like he did with all teachers who wouldn't instantly give him what he wanted. Eventually the teacher gave up and we all left him alone, but the teacher muttered something about "trouble child" and "principal's office" under his breath as we went.

When the rest of the class came back inside as the lesson ended, to hit the showers, Blaine was still there. I bet no one had seen a sophomore punch with such determination and force before. I certainly hadn't. And even though the class was over, Blaine kept punching that bag, fixating on it like there was nothing else in the world.

Since my skin and hair are extremely important to me (and I don't get how it's not for every guy), I am usually the last one to leave the locker rooms. Blaine was still in the gym, sweat running down his face and still wearing that long sleeved, gray sweater, punching the sack. He seemed more exhausted now, his punches lame at best. But I hadn't thought twice about it. I knew Blaine's reputation - it was all around school how he'd (in freshman year, might be added) beaten up the guy who had tried to steal his lunch money, but realizing small didn't mean vulnerable - and didn't intent to linger and see if he would have a problem with that.

I was just about to walk through the door, I had opened it and was halfway through it, when I got the strong sense that I'd left one of my moisturizers behind, and had to go back for it. Blaine had gone into the locker room now, and was hovering over his duffel bag. He didn't see me, but I saw him. He was standing by a bench, stripping out of his layers, one by one. It struck me as very odd, and it was on my mind for the rest of the day.

I wondered if Blaine had an abusive parent or something, that leave him ugly bruising to be forced to cover the next day. But when he'd taken his clothes off when he didn't know he was being watched, I hadn't seen anything to indicate injuries.

It took me a long time to figure out the truth, so long that I often stopped thinking about it. But it would come back to me, the wonder, whenever I saw him in the halls. Those moments when my gaze was on him for too long, he'd give me a sharp look. It was a silent warning he gave everyone, and call me crazy but I always felt that the ones he gave me were extra vicious.

More time passed, but eventually I figured it out. It was around spring time when Glee Club got a substitute. Or, more correctly, Mr. Shue introduced us to his "Latino friend", David Martinez. The guy was as gorgeous as a model and every girl - single or taken and, of course, me - drooled over him. It was actually ridiculous how everyone would stare openly at him and his white teeth whenever he passed them or shot them a killer smile. And so it happens that _everyone_ included Blaine.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I probably wouldn't have believed it. David had walked with me after Glee practice. I had managed to occupy him with "concerns for a solo I really wanted but feared Rachel would get" and we had walked to my locker together. Blaine had his locker in the same hall as me, but on the opposite wall. As I watched David's ass as he walked away, I noticed Blaine. And he was doing the same.

Blaine's stare hadn't been as obvious as every other girl's, but it had been obvious enough to my excellent gaydar. It had looked like Blaine didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late, and when he adverted his eyes, he met mine. I had been expecting the usual look that killed, but I was left more surprised. Blaine's eyes were wide and worried, whereupon he slammed his locker and quickly paced around the corner in escape.

That was the day I knew for sure that Blaine was just as gay as me.

The day I realized I he was a virgin too didn't stand out as much, I guess it wasn't one single thing that made me realize it. Perhaps it was the change in myself that I didn't see in Blaine.

You see, I am not a virgin anymore. Seth Rogers took care of that in junior year. It had been with a mutual, silent agreement that we dated for a little while, and by dated I mean mostly hooking up. We were both so embarrassingly inexperienced and knew we didn't want to go to college that way. For me, it was the thought of going to New York and be looked upon as the same loser I was here that motivated me to do it. But that's not important anymore, it's done. Seth and I had hooked up over the year, and as my friends and I became seniors, Seth was nowhere to be found. I didn't take it hard, I kind of saw it coming. Toward the end he had been so bullied and withdrawing into himself that he barely left his house. I heard later on that he and his family had moved to Seattle.

As I handed over my v-card to Seth, people around me started to see the changes in me even though I didn't. My dad noticed the change in me quite early in the process and awfully forced me into "the talk", where he told me he trusted me to do what I wanted if I felt I was ready, as long as I was being careful and safe. My friends noticed it too, although it was one of Santana's famous remarks that announced it to the rest of the New Directions. Certain people notice certain things, like how I notice people who are gay, Santana notices people who've had sex.

Anyhow, ever since that fact was out in the open, Rachel, Tina, Brittany and Mercedes always kept teasing me about all the ways I behaved differently. For instance, there was the body contact and the touching. I am embarrassed to admit now that I had a period of extreme clinginess. Then there was the smiling, and the flush on my cheeks whenever someone mentioned Seth or anything sex related. The list went on and some things I won't mention to a living soul, but at least I had all of those things.

Blaine remained his usual and hostile self throughout junior year. I figured it was because he was gay and that there weren't many people available in Lima with the same status. As we get older and older, we become more aware of our virginity. Like, when we are young teens it doesn't even bother us, but as we get older, the question is always in our heads: how long can I be virgin before people will start to think I'm weird? Blaine had the fortunate circumstance of remaining anonymous about his status (to all except for myself. If anyone else had known, the gossip would've spread like wildfire and suddenly _everyone _would know. Of course, I have the decency to keep delicate matters private) but as senior year began, I realized that nothing had changed.

But it wasn't just that, it was all those little raindrops that made a big river. In the classrooms when the teacher had gone to fetch another cup of coffee, talking was bound to arise. More than once had a bunch of jocks been approaching Blaine, looking for an argument. Blaine always tried to ignore them at first, but when he realized that they wouldn't go away he dove into the fights, head first. He was always making such a big spectacle of himself. And ironically, his favorite insults always involved sex. Every single time it was the same thing. "I had your girlfriend, she wasn't any good. You're only saying that because your penis is tiny. What does it feel like to never get it up? I bet your mom isn't better than the girl I fucked yesterday." On and on and on. It was also hilarious because the jocks actually bought it.

I actually started to think he was being a hypocrite. He was going up to all those who dared speak to him, calling them virgins as an insult when he himself was the virgin. Even though Blaine was hot and swoon-worthy and probably a good person deep down and all that, I just _knew _I wanted to get back at him. He had never done anything to me personally, but other bullies had. And to all those bullies calling me "the fairy virgin princess" when it wasn't even true, I wanted revenge. I blame my want for justice, Blaine's hotness and possibly some horny hormones on what I decided then.

I was going to be the one taking Blaine Anderson's virginity.

And I was going to do it soon.

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**Dum dum dum duuuum. **

**That was that and now I'm either going to sleep (which I should) or I'll just keep writing on my Italian!fic. (Insert more subtle hints to make you excited about my next works).**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N.**

**Okay so chapter two is here... obviously. I'm starting to think it won't be possible to keep the rating at T because I'm constantly thinking of what is too much to have in this without turning it to M. Hmm... Anyways, this is just my late night ramble note, never mind it.**

**Okay I have nothing good and inspirational and valuable to say tonight, so just keep reading!**

**Edit: Okay, I'm just changing it to M right now so I can stop thinking about it... um okay.**

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. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel_

_Phase 1: Making the target aware of my existence._

. . . . .

It was funny, in an ironic sort of way, because the same day that I decided to be the one wow-ing Blaine Anderson over to the dark side was the day my dad decided to force me through another sex-talk.

I should have seen it coming, honestly. If I thought I could be excited and run straight up to my room after school, close the door and start planning without my dad noticing anything out of the ordinary was up, then I must be mental. But it did surprise me that he instantly figured out what it was about. Or maybe it was just what he guessed, but of course it turned out to be true.

Well, somewhat...

"You matter, Kurt," dad suddenly said during dinner, and put his fork down next to his plate, folded his hands and looked straight at me.

I tried to play oblivious of his stare and kept eating from the mashed potatoes on my plate. But when he kept staring at me without saying anything, I was forced to look up. "What do you mean?" I asked in my most innocent voice, but yet not knowing where the conversation was going.

Dad cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke up. "I have to be honest with you, Kurt. I know what you're doing and I don't like it."

I was absolutely stunned because there was no possible way dad could've found out what I was doing. That I was going to seduce a guy to give me his virginity and hold it against him as a punishment for being such a douche bag? That thought hadn't been uttered to a soul, it had never even left my head.

"What am I doing?" I asked honestly. "What have I done? I've done nothing."

"Kurt, don't play dumb. I know you stopped having sexual relations when the boy you did it with moved away. And I was okay with it then, wasn't I? But if you're gonna start again, I'll need to know who the guy is."

Okay, this conversation was seriously getting weird. "Dad, I'm not-"

"I knew it! I knew it!" dad interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Knew what?"

"You're sleeping around, aren't you? That's why you won't tell me who it is… because there are _more…_"

"Dad, listen to me!" I interrupted, before this was going to get even more awkward. I did my best to ignore the blush on my cheeks that had grown throughout the conversation. "I'm _not_… like that."

Dad still didn't believe me, but seemed relieved by the fact that I was denying his suspicions. Calmer now, he said, "Then why did you come home today looking like the same _beam of sunshine _you looked like when you used to be with… _him_?"

I knew in that moment that if I wanted to go through with this, I'd have to be more sneaky and less obvious. And I also needed to give dad a reason for any suspicious behavior. As much as I hated lying, especially to dad, the situation I was in didn't allow me to be honest. At least not fully.

"Because," I said slowly, while staring down at my broccoli and welcoming the blush that I'd earlier tried to hide, "there is this guy who's… _good-looking_, who recently turned out to be gay." I looked at dad again to be sure he got the message, and bracing myself for the lie. "I like him, dad. I… and I hope that he'll like me too."

Dad grunted a little as a response and dove back into his food. If dad thought that it was an innocent boy-crush then he'd stay out of it. Apparently he felt obligated to talk to me if I was having sex, but not if I was having boy troubles. Lucky for me... I guess.

. . . . .

The next morning, I knew today was going to be the day. Today was chemistry class with Jenkins, the only class both of us shared this term. It was the best chance I had at Blaine noticing me and I had to take it. I didn't know what he was attracted to, but only the best outfit I could find in my walk-in closet would be good enough for a day like this.

One thing I knew for certain was that if I wanted Blaine to be turned on by me like I was a sex toy, I'd have to make him see me as one. Which was the part I detested the most, because it meant I'd have to dress to attract eyes, as opposed to "dress to impress" that was my normal-day slogan.

Somehow I'd come to the conclusion that the Americano onesie in my closet was a good choice. Deep down, I knew it'd work. It was usually my work-out outfit, but since I more than rarely moved in fear of breaking a sweat, it had never come to use. It was also the type of "casual" that could measure to the leather jacket and jeans outfit Blaine constantly wore.

Strapping a leather belt around my waist, I admired the flattering curve of my hips that came from it. I took one more look to make sure my hair still looked fabulous - and that the matching bandana wasn't over-doing it - and then took a step closer to the mirror. It was time for the necessary part of the outfit that Blaine wouldn't be able to resist (if his attraction to David Martinez was a general opinion of the style, that was). I raised my hand to the zipper by my neck, and pulled it downward. I pulled it until it was almost halfway between my nipples and belly button in height. And I wasn't wearing any undershirt.

I took a look at myself in the mirror, and if I could say so myself, I looked stunning. There was just enough skin bared on my chest to be teasing at the border on revealing, but not nearly revealing enough to be satisfying. Martinez had always wore v-necked shirts, and from what I'd gathered, it worked every time.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to step away from the mirror before I could change my mind. I grabbed my bag on the way out of my room and headed to school. I was glad that dad had already gone to the tire shop so that he wouldn't give me suspicious glances. I was already self-conscious about the outfit as it was.

I arrived in school quite late, walking the corridors to get to my locker as fast as I could. The bell rung once before I even reached my locker. But as I rounded the last corner, there he was. The hall was already empty, the two other people there already hurrying away. Blaine was scrambling through his messy locker, not seeming to be in a hurry. I was frozen in my spot for a second, not ready to face him already. I collected myself as fast as I could, and just as I was about to start walking, he saw me.

When he saw me then… I was more sure than ever that I was going through with the plan. There are no words to describe how powerful I felt in that moment. At first, Blaine had only felt the lingering presence of someone being there, or maybe he felt a pair of eyes on him and was going to turn toward that person to give them one of his glares. But as he saw me, eyebrows pulled together, his face just went _blank_.

I took him by surprise, that's for sure. His eyes widened as he saw me, his mouth fell open as he trailed his eyes down my body. It was just for a moment, a very brief moment, but it had been there. The want in his eyes was unmistakable at the short distance even if Blaine tried to hide it as he turned back to his locker and pretended to be busy.

I started walking again, and walked past him to my locker. I placed my bag on the floor and worked with the locker combination as fast as I could. As I collected my books, I noticed in the corner of my eye how Blaine was watching me. Just to tease him, I bent over to get my bag, giving him a good view of my ass.

When I walked by him again to get to class, he didn't even hide his gaze. He was staring openly at me, yet he wasn't staring per se…

His eyes were narrowed and suspicious as they moved between my eyes and my chest. I tried to hold my head high and cool, but his gaze both unnerved and excited me. I didn't know why he looked at me the way he did the second time, but at the same time it felt good to be desired by someone like him. He was the one everyone wanted, and for him to want _me_, me of all people… I'll get back to you later of how it made me feel (when I'm done screaming on the inside!). It didn't happen too often to someone like me, and it was a great boost of confidence.

At this point in my plan, everything was going much better than I had ever hoped or imagined. I had been expected to use everything I had to make it happen, and not give up until it did - sooner or later. Call it obsessing, but it gave me something fun to focus on for a change. Yes, I was doing this for fun. This wasn't some sort of evil master plan where I was the French old villain stealing a poor little girl's virtue. I was simply restoring the order, creating balance where the higher power had forgot to put some.

If Blaine wanted to brag about all the sex he was having, he sure would get a piece of it. Maybe that was a good deed instead of a bad one, but the bad part would come after that. I wasn't entirely sure of what was going to happen once I achieved my goal, but something was definitely going down. The whole point of this was really to teach Blaine a lesson, and the curriculum was being expanded every second in my mind. Even though Blaine was hotter than the sun, he was gnawing my last nerve with all that bragging and self-loving attitude.

Even though it hadn't been intentionally done on my part, I had thrown the bait, and Blaine had swallowed it at the first toss in the water. The confidence it gave me was just what I needed for this plan. And it was just what I needed for phase two.

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**Excited? Good. Not? Okay...**

**No but what do you think? Is this interesting? Do you want me to continue? **

**Please review :) ! (haha sorry, just had to...)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N.**

**Here we go again, I feel the chemicals kickin' in... or not. I'm just... tired ok? No but idek why I always write best at midnight onward, I just do. So here is the next chapter! I hope it'll be satisfactory. Things are starting to happen for real now. **

**Oh and,**

**Warning: harsh language (I guess? I mean, it depends on what you're used to but yeah it's kinda harsh.)**

**Um... don't really know what else to say. It's weird because when I'm writing the chapters I have tons of stuff that I wanna write in the authors note but when I actually write it I come up with nothing. Maybe I should start writing it down when I come up with it...**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._

_Phase 2: Being introduced_

. . . . .

The rest of the day went on smoothly from what I can remember. No unforeseen encounters or surprise visits. I had mentally prepared myself just enough for chemistry so that I felt that I, once again, had the situation under control.

I walked into the classroom as gracefully as ever. The room was already filled to half with students, one of the early ones was Blaine. He was sitting in the end of the classroom, leaning towards the wall, looking out over the room. Despite not being in his angle of view, it was like he could sense me coming, and he turned his head to the door. When he saw it was me, he briskly turned his head away, so that he was staring ahead again.

My usual seat was quite far in the front of the room, but not today. I walked past Blaine, while smoothly swaying my hips, until I was in the end of the room. I took a seat in the middle row, eased myself down on the chair and waited for class to start.

It didn't take long for the rest of the students to find their seats, but it felt like forever under Blaine's powerful stare. I was in the middle of his line of vision, and he made a point not to look away from me the whole time.

The lesson began with Mr. Jenkins giving a brief presentation on the lab we were going to do. It was a fairly easy lab for those who had been there every lesson and knew what we were working on. I had. But it wasn't until Jenkins announced that we were working in pairs that I got excited. Because, after a quick scan of the room, I noticed that there were only two people sitting alone. One of them was Blaine. The other person was me.

It took about the same amount of time for Blaine to realize this as well, and he did not look pleased about it. Jenkins noticed that we were the only ones left, and told us rather strictly to get together. As Blaine didn't make any motion to move, I decided that I was the one who had to make this happen.

"I'm Kurt Hummel, but I'm sure you already know that."

Blaine turned his head up at the sound my voice, close to him. He studied the mocking smile on my lips and the quirked eyebrow, before lowering his gaze to my outstretched hand. He took it after a second. "I'm Blaine Anderson, but you know that." Then smirked viciously and tauntingly at me, daring me to keep playing.

I took the seat next to his. "And why would I know that?"

"Oh, please." Blaine's eyes scanned the room. "The people here cackle more than hens. Word easily goes around."

There was something about the constant double standard in Blaine that always made me want to laugh out loud. But I'd settled for a more unconventional method of exposure, that was why I was sitting there in the first place. If he likes it when word goes around, he's sure gonna get it.

"But why do you think I would know who _you _are… Kurt? Why would I care?"

"Come on, Blaine, I thought you were more fun than that!" I teased, earning a questioning look from Blaine. I tilted my head to the side. "Do we really wanna play _that _game? Personally, I find playing dumb extremely unattractive, and incredibly unsexy. You can do better."

Blaine scoffed. "And why the hell would I want a _queer _like you to find me sexy?" he spat.

"Were you really not listening five seconds ago?" I shot back, and smirked. "I'm not into playing dumb."

The look on Blaine's face was almost priceless, and I tell you, I would've taken a picture of it if I could. Blaine's eyes were wide open: he was completely shot off guard. But honestly, did he really think I didn't know? If I hadn't before, I most certainly would've after the looks he gave me in the hallway earlier in the day.

And there it was - the silent recognition. The silence that spoke volumes. I kept my arrogant and superior expression, while Blaine searched my features for any indication that I was just bluffing, that I wasn't a hundred percent sure that he was just as gay as me. But he didn't find one, because there was none.

He shifted in his seat and leaned closer to me, his harsh whisper whipping my face. "I don't know what you think you know, but you don't know _anything _about me."

"Maybe not," I replied, just as sourly, "but I know that you're gay. I honestly don't get how no one's figured it out yet, but I'm sure they will, because those kind of things don't stay silent, you know. And don't even try to deny it, I know you are. Gay, gay, _gay_."

I saw the terror in his face - without a doubt he thought that I was going to out him to the whole school. But I had no such plans in mind, and the fact that his mind wasn't wandering in the direction of my real plans played for my advantage. I still had the element of surprise on my side. How much that would help me in the end, I wasn't sure, but it couldn't hurt to have all the help I could get.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "There's only one bad person here, and it's not me."

Blaine made motion to talk back to me when Mr. Jenkins voice rang through the room once again.

"Also, maybe I should mention," Mr. Jenkins said, with a funny sort of smile on his face, "that you should probably shake hands with your partner if you haven't done so already. He or she is going to be your permanent lab partner for the rest of the year."

From my side, I heard Blaine gasp loudly. I must say, I was very surprised myself. To have one lab shared with Blaine was okay, but to have my whole grade depending on the cooperation with the guy I was about to screw over didn't serve me as good.

After deciding to talk to Mr. Jenkins after class, I turned back to Blaine, ready to bluff. "Well, you heard him. Let's make the best of this, shall we?"

Blaine stared at me in disbelief. "The hell I'm gonna be stuck with you all year!"

I leaned closer, and Blaine instinctively froze in his seat. My breath spilled over his lips, and his lips fell open without him even realizing. I grinned. "I'm sure we'll get along well eventually. We might even have... _fun _together."

The Adam's apple bobbed on Blaine's neck as he swallowed deeply. "No, _thank you_," he spat, and then seemed to decide something. "I don't know why you have gotten it into your head that I'm gay, but I'll tell you that we're gonna witness the world's apocalypse before I turn fairy."

"Well, lucky for you that's it's 2012 then. What is it…? Three months left now?"

Blaine clenched his teeth without responding, and made a point out of storming up from his seat and to Mr. Jenkins desk. I tuned their voices out as they started talking, and stared at the lab assignment in front of me. When Blaine and Mr. Jenkins both raised their voices, it was hard to ignore them. As I looked up, I saw that the whole classroom felt the same. Although, I only caught the last part of Blaine's sentence.

"_-because I won't work with a fucking faggot!_"

Mr. Jenkins was furious, the red and purple blush on his face a strong contrast to his white hair and mustache. He abruptly rose from his seat and adjusted the round glasses on his nose. "Mr. Anderson! I am going to get more coffee and afterward when I pass the principal's office, I want to see you in there!" Then he took his dirty white coffee mug and stormed off.

Blaine scoffed, and finally realized everyone was staring at him. "What?" He yelled at a couple of girls in the front, and then stormed out.

Grabbing Blaine's worn backpack from the back of his chair, I went after him. I caught him rather close to the door, indicating that Blaine had been walking slowly. "Blaine!" I called, and Blaine stopped in his tracks, his shoulders heaving with a sigh.

"What do you want, Hummel?"

He didn't sound mad anymore, only exasperated. "Your backpack," I said, and he took it from me with an appreciative nod. "Even if you get out of the principal's before class is over, there's no way Jenkins is gonna let you back in."

"Yeah. Thanks." Blaine finally met my eyes, and he looked very tired. Tired… and almost hurt. I would damn him for that face for weeks to come, because it always hunts my nightmares these days. I didn't know then, why he was looking hurt. If I had known, I probably would have backed away into classroom and forgotten about him and every single thought I'd had about him the last couple of years.

But he was looking hurt, and even though I detested - and almost hated - him, a part of me pitied him too. All I wanted to do was to look away from those soulful eyes. I wanted to remember why I was doing this. So, later regrettably, I decided to provoke him.

"Listen," I said. "What you did in there was completely unnecessary and immature. Just because you're in the closet doesn't mean you have to pick on me for having the courage you're lacking."

"You know, I wonder what it's like to be so damn conceited all the fucking time so that I think I know everything," Blaine said angrily. "Why don't you let me know some time, huh?"

"I'm not conceited," I shot back, trying to remain cool, "I'm being honest. And at least _I_ can admit to myself that I like cock. Of course, you wouldn't know about that either way, would you, V?"

Blaine's eyes were wide as saucers as he shook his head incredulously. "You're unbelievable. Like we both don't know you're the virgin here. You know what? Fuck you."

I couldn't help but to smirk at that because, 1) What was up with him and being hypocritical? Seriously. And 2) Did he not realize how big of a trap he was rearranging for himself?

"I'm sure you would like to, and I don't blame you. I'm pretty hot."

Blaine scoffed. "And you say you're not conceited…" he murmured. "You're unbelievable."

He turned away, but I stopped him by grabbing his arm and spinning him back 180 degrees. Our faces were closer than before, our bodies were touching. Blaine was caught off guard once again (seriously, shouldn't he have learned by now that I'm full of surprises?) and was furrowing his eyebrows in annoyance. I didn't let a moment go to waste, and lunged forward and attacked his lips with mine. I moved my lips quickly and fiercely against his, and he didn't stop me when I bent his lips open and slipped my tongue into his mouth. If I was being honest, I had missed this terribly. Just kissing. It was one of the things I loved, even though I didn't particularly like who I was doing it with.

Blaine kissed me back, although with more tentative movements of his lips, exploring the underside of my tongue with his own. He was breathing hard through his nose when he was running out of air, but I didn't stop. I tasted the bitter tastes of cigarette smoke and coffee and wanted more, latched my hands on either of his cheeks and pulled him closer. Blaine moaned when my half hard cock rubbed against his thigh.

When we broke the kiss we were both panting hard. Blaine's lips were red and swollen, and it was obvious that he had been kissing. When I was about to pull away, Blaine held me tight and leaned in for another kiss. I stopped him, putting a strong hand on his leather-clad chest, so that his lips barely tickled mine before coming to a halt. He leaned back a little to be able to look me in the eye. Reality started rushing back to me, and even though Blaine was hot as hell all kiss-swollen lips and wanting more, I had to pull back. I couldn't give him what he wanted, it had to be on my terms. Otherwise this game could go down the drain.

I quirked an eyebrow at Blaine and then wiggled out of his arms. "You better go to the principal's office," I said quietly, "before this faggot turns you. Or at least, I suppose that's what you pretended to be afraid of when you yelled at the teacher?"

Without waiting for Blaine to respond, I walked away, back into the classroom. I didn't turn back to look at him, but I heard the rustling of the metal chains on his boots as he started walking too.

I didn't see Blaine for the rest of the day, not even by the lockers, so I could only assume that he was skipping. Or whatever it was he did whenever he mysteriously disappeared. Either way, I didn't see him again. I knew it was because of me, and a strange, unsettling feeling stayed in the pit of my stomach throughout the day. I had to tell myself, numerous times, that he deserved it, and that I was the only one who could make him pay. It almost helped, but I was still left wondering…

How could this end in a good way?

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**Hope you liked this chapter and where the story is going! What do you think is going to happen next? What did you like/dislike? Send me a little review and make me the happiest person ever!**

**And I just wanna say thank you all for reading this, it means a lot to me :)**

**Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ****Thank you for your reviews and feedback. They certainly made me thinking of how I could change some things and make other things more obvious. Although, one of the things I'm putting in would seem rather out-of place if I wrote it this early on, so do bear with me in the process of unfolding the story. Hopefully you will soon get to see that Kurt is not an evil person, despite of what he's planning on doing. Because that's not who he is.**

**Okay! Enough spoilers now I think…**

**I said in the last note that I constantly forget what I was going to say, so here it is. To _divorcethelight_: That's hilarious! I admit the drum into got me thinking of I've Got My Mind Set On You, which is just equally brilliant.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel_

_Phase 3: Realizing your limits _and_ potential setbacks_

. . . . .

_Fucking faggot._

If anything, Blaine's words had only egged me on, made me realize exactly how much I needed to go through with this plan. But the kiss afterwards in the hallway had made me realize that I couldn't do it alone. I needed someone to share this with, help me plan and keep me focused on my goal so that I wouldn't do something stupid. I needed someone to share this with, someone who would keep me in track when I couldn't do it myself. I needed the scheming, ugly minds of two particularly annoying brunettes. That was why, after Glee practice a week later, I found myself walking up to Rachel and Santana with a rather strange favor to ask.

I had asked them to come to the auditorium after practice, and since it was almost five pm, the most of the students had already gone home for the day, allowing us to have some privacy. Not that many people used the auditorium anyway. It seemed to be a Glee club preference. There was something very scheming and soothing about the stage.

The three of us sat in the middle of it, forming a small circle of secrets.

"Kurt, is this going to take long? Finn was going to drive me home and meet my dads." Rachel eyed him without getting an answer, because Santana spoke up, too.

"As intrigued as I was when you invited me for this little secret gathering of yours, I wanna know what's going on."

"Well," I said, "first I need you both to promise that whatever I say stays between us. Can you do that?"

"Look, doll face," Santana said, "if you need a place to stay cause the cops looking for the missing body you killed can't be lead to your house, you can't use my house. Nana is upset as it is with Brittany and me being together and occasionally snuggling on the couch."

I stared at her in disbelief, but shook my head. "No, it's nothing like that. But I need help with something, and I thought that you two would be the most suiting for what I have planned."

"What do you mean?" Rachel chirped, confused.

I looked at Rachel for a beat, then at Santana. "You know how Blaine Anderson always is such a contradicting shit?"

"God, Kurt," Rachel said, leaping forward to take my hand, "I couldn't believe it when I heard he basically called you _that word _in front of the whole class, I still can't. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said slowly, then added, looking between them, "but I want him to pay. And this would be where you guys come in."

"Damn, Hummel, I didn't know you had it in you," Santana said and smiled appreciatively. "I am _honored _that you asked me to help you in your revenge, but can I ask what Dinosaur Nose is doing here? I would think Quinn have more of an evil mind than Rachel." She shot her eyebrows together in thought. "Actually, I think anyone would beat Rachel on the scale of evilness, she just knows how to be annoying."

Rachel stared at Santana sourly, strongly pinching her lips together not to snap at her.

"Girls, girls," I warned. "This is exactly why I chose you two. I think that you have the right energetic approach that I need for what I have in mind."

"What do you have in mind?" both Rachel and Santana asked at once.

I leaned closer to them, and they leaned closer too, until our three heads were close together.

"Ladies. Blaine Anderson… is _gay_."

Rachel gasped in surprise and quickly covered her mouth with her hands and muffled an "oh my god". Santana leaned back and looked very pleased.

"Well, well," she smirked, "I must say I'm pleased with these turn of events. So when do we out him?"

"Nonono," I said hurriedly, holding my hands up as if to stop her from screaming it at the top of her lungs right that second. "That's not what I'm planning on doing."

"Then what? Why shouldn't he get the same treatment as the rest of us?"

"I don't believe in outing people, Santana, it's wrong. What Finn did to you was wrong. We're better than that." I could see that the memories I brought up made a second of pain flash across Santana's face, but she quickly recovered. Rachel pretended to be busy with her hands at the comment. "What I have planned is something different entirely."

"Kurt, just spill it!" Rachel begged, looking up and seeming like she was going to burst at any second.

"I am going to take his virginity, and then-"

"Wait, whoa, _whoa_, hang on a second!" Santana said and held up a hand. "Blaine is a_ virgin_?"

I raised my eyebrow and nodded to the girls, and I couldn't decide who of them looked more surprised. Okay, I'd say it was Rachel, but to be fair to her, Santana wasn't as obvious about her emotions. But now both of their jaws were dropped and they were staring at me in disbelief.

"Kurt, are you sure?" Rachel asked. "I mean, he seems so…"

"Yeah, I know," I replied, still feeling the weird sensation of being the only one in the whole school who wasn't completely oblivious. Nonetheless, it came as a surprise to Santana and Rachel, and to a certain point, I could understand them. When you only look at a person's shell, their outsides is all you see. You only see what that person wants you to see. It's not until you peel away the layers and really _look _that you might finally see something that's true. In this case, it was about Blaine's virginity.

I have to take a second to defend myself right there though, because I'm leaving something unsaid. No, I have no sort of obsession for Blaine. Yes, I have found myself looking his direction more than just once or twice. I don't know why exactly, I just guess there was something about him that lured me in. Maybe it was the fact that he was gay… or maybe it was something else. I couldn't quite tell yet, because as Blaine had said many times, I didn't know him. I prayed that I never would either, because then it would make this game so much more difficult. But luck was on my side since Blaine wasn't one to talk about himself.

"Kurt…" Rachel breathed, and snapped me out of my thoughts. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke, to choose her words. "I know some people sometimes see me as a cold-hearted bitch and/or spoiled brat-"

"_Some _people _some_times?" Santana interrupted, with a smirk spread widely across her cheeks.

Rachel gave her an evil stare before continuing. "But why exactly do you wanna get back at him?"

"He deserves it," I said confidently.

"Yes, but I mean-"

"Listen, dwarf," Santana interrupted again. "I understand perfectly why he wants to do it. Heck, I'd do it myself if I knew how. You've seen that guy go about, haven't you? He doesn't just stand against the bullies, he stands against everyone. That little prick thinks so highly of himself that he thinks he can stand up against anyone without getting punished for it, teachers and peers included. I saw him as late as yesterday, terrifying a kid into giving up his lunch money. He's a bad person and a bully, that's what he is."

_Thinking back at this moment, I can see that it was one of the more defining ones. Maybe I should've been more attentive, kept my eyes open and actually listened to what was being said. That was probably what I regretted most, afterwards: that I didn't see it coming. I can't say it was all their fault, it was my fault because I brought them into this in the first place. Blaine was doomed the moment my mind had been wandering in his direction, even if I would be the one pulling the trigger or not. It was bound to happen because I had made sure of it._

_I just hope that he can forgive me one day. _

Rachel nodded in agreement, but turned to me again. "But why does it have to be you?"

"Because, the kind of revenge I want to do is something only I can do," I replied, pausing to build the tension. "I want to take his virginity."

"What even, glitter?" Santana asked, not understanding how that could make any difference. "That's your big plan? Hell, that's like giving him a favor. No way."

"I haven't really come up with the details yet," I said defensively, "about what's gonna happen afterwards, how I can turn it against him. That's where you come in."

Santana folded her arms across her chest. "Okay, okay, that is a genius move, glitter. Auntie Snix has gots this."

"Just nothing inhumane, cruel or illegal," I warned, already starting to worry about what I was doing and what was going to happen.

Then came the line that I trusted and depended my whole world on, the line that would keep everything safe and protected how matter bad things turned out, the line that later turned out to be a lie.

"Don't worry, glitter. I won't do anything without running it past your approval."

. . . .

Content with what had come of the talk with the brunettes, I was ready to go home. I would have to pass my locker first though, to get books to work with at home. As I turned the last corner, Blaine was there in the hallway. But he wasn't alone this time.

"I said, why did you spread those rumors about me?" Blaine yelled, at the little sophomore he had pressed up against the lockers, neck pinned in a choking grip with his lower arm. The blonde guy was grasping for air, his face reddening.

Before I realized what I was doing, I heard myself call as I jogged up to them. "Hey! Leave that kid alone!"

Blaine was startled by the voice that suddenly shook him to reality, and after blinking a few times, let go of the kid, who slid down the lockers on unsteady legs. Blaine scoffed at me, and gave me a nasty, disapproving look. "Stop putting your nose where it doesn't belong!" Then he was off.

I approached the sophomore wearily, sitting down next to him on the ground. He looked away, ashamed of meeting my eyes. "I'm guessing you two have met before?" I started gently.

He watched me for a moment, running a lazy hand through his hair while just breathing, considering if he should talk to me or not. But why would I even bring him into this story if he didn't end up talking?

"He threatened to kill me... when I found out that he was gay."

Those were the exact words he spoke, I still remember them. Even the way he spoke them still lingers in my mind. Distress. Hopelessness. Defeat. It sounded like giving up, like finally telling someone something that had been torturing the mind for god knows how long.

Judging by my face, he figured I took it as a surprise, so he told me that yeah, Blaine was gay. But I wasn't surprised because of that, I was surprised because _someone else had known_.

"How did you find out?" I asked simply, then waited for him to take his time.

"Believe it or not, it was during summer camp. So about… two or three months ago now. It was in July. Well, technically it was during the end of July and the beginning of August. But whatever." He sighed, and then engaged in his story. "We were roommates, we shared a cabin. Well, us two and a couple of more guys. We were four guys… but Blaine had a different program than the rest of us. One morning we had soccer on the schedule, and we told Blaine "see ya in the lunch hall in two!". Two hours, that was. If he even had a schedule of activities, he wasn't obeying it." The sophomore laughed a little at the thought. "He was the oldest, about to be a senior. I think all of us were a little intimidated, and he had this attitude…"

The sophomore wrapped his arms protectively around himself and shifted his gaze right and left through the hall, to be sure no one was eavesdropping on us. He lowered his voice anyway, just in case.

_I had been feeling weird all morning. Later they said the mushrooms were bad, and I had to lay a week with food poisoning. It was the worst. But I was looking forward to soccer, I love soccer. It's my favorite sport._

_We were on the court, just been divided into teams in the unfair way. Four people got to choose the best players, the non-athletic ones left last. I was picked somewhere in the middle, but it doesn't really matter when you're picked. There's always that feeling in your stomach, that sort of shame, while you just _wait_. _

_I had put on the glowing, yellow vest and we were warming up. I tried to ignore the knifelike stabs in my stomach as I jogged around the field, slower than the other guys. The coach was on me, asking what was up. I tried to tell him I was fine, but when he forced me to jog with him, in his fast pace, I just could take it. Without even doing it intentionally, my body bent over, folded into half, and I threw up right then and there, on the artificial grass. _

_I was sent back to the cabin all alone. It was a good ten minute walk – uphill, might be added. The only comforting words I got was to get some rest, and that the nurse was coming up to check me when she was done mending a twisted ankle. That walk was the worst thing I've ever experienced in my whole life. _

_There was nothing that seemed to be out of the ordinary. Everything was calm in the woods, the birds were singing and the sunlight shone beautifully through the thick trees. I remember how I stopped for a beat to really look at it, thinking there was no rush to push myself anyway. _

_As I got to the cabin, I didn't even think of the fact that Blaine would still be there. I figured he just took on the forced summer camp strolling through the woods or down my the lake (I'd seen him do that once, throwing rocks into the lake. It looked really peaceful, even though he looked miserable). But he wasn't away, he was still in there. _

_He should've heard me coming, that's what I kept telling myself weeks and weeks. Why couldn't he just have heard me come? It would've made everything so much easier. But I suppose his mind was engaged elsewhere…_

_I almost threw the cabin door open in exhaust, ready to crawl into my top bunker. But what I saw as I opened the door was nothing I'd been expecting. Blaine was in his bed, the one under mine, head thrown back against the wall, mouth wide open and eyes tightly shut. His pants were pulled down to his hips, one hand wrapped around himself while the other supported him to stay upright on the bed. It only took a second to realize what he was doing, and then he noticed me too. Then it was too late. I tried darting my eyes away, but that was when I saw _it_. _

_Lying open in his lap was a magazine, only the world's stupidest or innocent person wouldn't know what kind of magazine that was. (I'm a guy, I know how it is.) But it wasn't until he scrambled the magazine together to hide it under his pillow when I saw what it really was. It wasn't Playboy or half naked girls… they were _guys_. I couldn't stop staring at him, realizing the truth. It was like everything suddenly made sense. He stared back at me, and I just stood there, frozen with fear. He looked like he was about to scream or hit something - me - but just kept staring at me like that. _

_Eventually I moved, slowly climbing into my bed above his, the pain in my stomach suddenly numb. I heard his sheets rustle, the pull of a zipper. Then silence. That wait was the longest I think I've ever experienced in my life. I was too scared to even breathe because the loudness of it could upset him, make him snap. I just lay there, praying that the nurse would just get there already. _

_Then I heard a strong pull of breath, followed by, "You go to McKinley, right? I've seen you there."_

_I thought replying would be better than nothing. "Yeah."_

_There was another moment of silence, another pause. Another breath. When his voice filled the small room again, it was slow and steady, like it had all the time in the world. "If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you."_

_He didn't use any swear words. He sounded calm and threatening. It wasn't like "if you tell anyone about this I will fucking kill you, you little shit". That was what scared me, how serious he sounded. Like he really meant it. _

The sophomore turned his head to face me for the first time since Blaine had left. "I swear, I would never tell anyone. I'm cool with people being themselves, _whoever_ they are... but he wasn't fine with me knowing. He's been pestering me, threatening me - mostly silently and left me alone - ever since school started."

I furrowed my eyebrows, thought about what I'd just learned. However, there was something that didn't seem right. "But why now? I mean, why was he attacking you now?" The sophomore nodded, and I added carefully, "I heard Blaine say something about some rumors?"

The blonde turned fully toward me, looked me pleadingly in the eye. "I have no idea what that was about. I'm not spreading any rumors, I swear! I haven't even told anyone about this summer until now, no one. I have no idea why he would say that."

He had no idea, and neither had I. But then I suddenly knew.

The only "rumors" Blaine would even think twice about punishing someone for was him being gay, that's what I knew. That's the only thing about him that the sophomore knew. Blaine thought the younger blonde was the only one who knew about his sexuality. So what a surprise he must've gotten when I suddenly walked right up to him and confronted him about it, just months after the incident that had broken years of silence. And the only conclusion that made sense to me was that Blaine though his secret had been spread by the only person who had known.

I didn't tell the guy next to me any of this. Maybe he deserved to know, but I didn't tell him. I just didn't.

"I'm late for practice," he suddenly said, rising to his feet. Before leaving, he gave me a long look. "I think he's scared that his secret's out, and if more people find out, he might come after me. I can't live like that, in the constant fear. I- I have to go." Then he went.

That was the last time I ever saw him. I didn't even get to know his name.

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**Hope you liked this chapter! **

**And I hope you review :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N. **

**I have no idea what I'm doing. Um, oops? But besides from that, the story is coming along great…**

**Jokes aside though, I'll try to update more often. This last one was slow. I kind of know where this story going to end up, but I'm not sure right now how I'm planning on getting there. That's the part I'm trying to figure out, and that's why this update was a bit off time-wise.**

**I haven't been very pleased with this fic, but I'm taking new approaches and hopefully getting on track. Thanks for hanging out meantime, though! **

* * *

. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._**  
**

_Phase 4: Re-evaluations and inner confusion_

. . . . .

Time passed when nothing happened. The tension between Blaine and I was still there, bigger than ever but even so seemed to slowly fade away. I had tried talking to Mr. Jenkins about changing lab partner, trying to make him see the reasoning that I couldn't work with someone like Blaine. He said he understood, but that there was no way of changing now because everyone already had partners. _It's not the end of the world, you might even learn something form each other_, he'd said, and that had been the end of the discussion.

We met in the school library one afternoon to work on an assignment. We sat in the private section, on the dirty blue couch in the corner, behind the bookshelves about African American culture that no one came looking for anyway. We were both on the couch, propped up beside each other. We were sitting awfully close to each other, thighs touching all the way down to the knees. Blaine didn't seem to mind, and to be honest, neither did I. We were mimicking positions with our feet on the table in front of us, books in our laps, while casually leaning back against the couch. I was staring at the periodical system like it held a mystery I could discover by staring long enough.

Having Blaine as a chemistry partner wasn't the worst thing, I had soon discovered. He clearly knew what he was doing, he had brains. So did I, and, ironically enough, we worked great together. But I knew the calm couldn't last, the storm was coming. If I rushed it on, maybe it would be over sooner. Like, how the calm before the storm only is temporary, but the destruction after it was still possible to rebuild to former glory.

"Why are you still in the closet?" I blurted out, knowing I'd end up regretting my words if I thought about them too long. My eyes never left the heavy book, but I could still feel Blaine's eyes boring into my side. "I mean," I hurriedly added, "I'm not picking on you or anything. I'm just wondering how your mind goes. You seem like a reasonable person. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Blaine stopped me before I started an all-out ramble. "It's fine," he said calmly, going back to his book. He made no further attempts to continue.

I honestly wanted to know. Most people were afraid of what their friends and family would think. Or they were disgusted by themselves, or just not used to the idea of it. But there was something different about Blaine, I could tell.

"I know it's a hard thing to come to turns with, I've been there," I kept going, squeezing my eyes shut for a second and cursing myself for not shutting up. "Some people aren't comfortable with themselves, they want to change or adapt to-"

"It's not like that," Blaine said finally. I looked up at him. He sighed frustratedly. "I know this is who I am, and I'm perfectly fine with it. I don't want to change. I have accepted myself a long time ago, Kurt. It's nothing like that."

"I don't understand," I answered honestly, worrying my lower lip between my teeth for a moment, before realizing it had caught Blaine's attention. He looked at the motion for a beat, before turning back to his book.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday," he said simply. "But not today."

I decided to stop pushing, and nodded. But I would definitely hang around for that day.

. . . .

The library corner became our routine quickly. Weeks passed where I almost lost myself in school and my friends, only to be reminded - by Santana or by mine and Blaine's study sessions - that I had to keep my mind on track.

We were in the library like we usually were these days when we met. It was early November and it was already darkening considering how late it was in the afternoon. The library was quite empty considering how many test were in the near future, but we'd had a long day and I for one was completely exhausted.

As usual, Blaine hadn't said a word past a grunted greeting when we met up. He'd already been buried in his math book when I showed up after Glee practice, and didn't acknowledge me much. Again and again I kept cursing myself for not doing more to get his attention, making him feel safe with me instead of allured. But today I decided the calm was coming to an end.

"This stupid shit!" I swore under my breath, slamming my math book on the table and leaning back on the sofa with my arms crossed over my chest. Obviously, this caught Blaine's attention, who was startled by the abruptness of it after almost half an hour of silence.

Blaine raised an eyebrow and fought back a smile. "You need help?"

He was watching me, his head only slightly bent towards me. It wasn't until then that I noticed that his usual eyebrow ring was replaced by a curved barbell in gray. I saw his eyebrows crunch as he frowned when I didn't reply.

"Um," I said, clearing my throat. I had to admit, that thing was actually pretty hot. And awfully distracting, all I could think of was leaning in and running my tongue over it. "If you don't mind."

"It's not so hard once you get into it," Blaine encouraged.

I raised an eyebrow. "What if I like hard?" I teased, sliding a hand up his thigh.

Blaine released a shaky breath and lifted my hand away with one of his own. Other than that, he ignored my comment. "See, if you want to find the f prime of x, you have to derive it. But when you're trying find the biss it's like a second derivation. So just derive the factors a second time." He ended his explanation with a shrug, like what he spoke of was the simplest thing.

He looked up from the book, and realized that I'd been staring at him the entire time. "Did you listen at all?" he asked, again trying to fight a smile. This time however, he did not succeed in the least. He looked absolutely adorable when trying not to laugh at me. It was so different from his usual evil grins or condescending smirks.

An embarrassed laugh escaped my lips when I realized that I hadn't. "Sorry!" I laughed, hiding my face in the palm of my hand. "I just space out when it comes to this. For all I know, it could be in Italian or something."

Something wicked flickered in Blaine's eyes. "Che si desidera," he said, and smirked at my widening eyes. "Never mind," he smiled. Call me crazy - maybe it was because I was tired and because the lightning wasn't so good where we sat - but it almost looked like Blaine was blushing. "Do you wanna try it a second time?" he asked, and licked his lips.

His lips, his very red lips, were what I was looking at when I replied. "I'd love to."

"Okay, sure. So to find the bi- _hmpf_."

Blaine came to a sudden stop when I captured his lips with mine. At first it felt like he was going to pull back, his features went stiff and he wasn't kissing me back. At first. When I started sucking on his bottom lip it was like his thoughts of what was right and what he should do went out the window and his mouth opened up under mine.

I took my time this time, exploring Blaine's mouth with my tongue, every dip and every rise, in deep and lazy movements. Blaine moaned involuntarily in the back of his throat when he traced my tongue with his, and the sound was highly arousing. I felt a familiar heat spread to the base of my stomach, and it made my cock ache for more.

When we finally broke, Blaine's lips looked - if possible - even more delicious that they had before. They had shifted from deep pink to blushing red and the kissing had sized them up a great deal.

What I tried not to think about was what was going on inside me, other than the physical turmoil. Seeing Blaine in front of me, eyes blown wide and mouth agape in surprise. He quickly recovered, eyes frantically searching the library to see if anyone had noticed. It only took a few seconds for him to come at ease, but when he turned back to me, his jaw was clenched and his eyebrows were shot together.

"Stop doing that!" he hissed.

"Doing what?" I asked innocently.

"You know what I'm talking about! You can't just… _kiss _me like that."

I smirked internally at Blaine for being so flustered, and because what I was doing was actually affecting him. "_Sorry_…" I dragged, not at all meaning it.

But it wasn't enough for Blaine.

"Kurt, I mean it," he said firmly. Kurt could see the wall he was putting up around himself as he wrapped an arm around himself. His eyes grew cold and distant. "I don't know what your angle is, but I'm here because we got teamed up for chemistry class. Nothing else."

Blaine turned back to his book, and I kept my eyes on him. There were certain obstacles I had to overcome in order for everything to work, and I realized I would need a different approach. As the kiss, seemingly doing its purpose, had turned out awfully wrong, I knew he had to do _something _to not make this whole encounter end up as a waste of trial and error. Therefore, I ended up following my next hunch.

"My _angle_?" I gasped breathlessly. Surprised at the tone, Blaine turned his head back in confusion. But I, as a part of the act, started scrambling my books together and stuffing them into my bag, feeling my eyes sting and not meeting Blaine's gaze. "Sorry for liking you!" Stuffing another book. Oh, there I ripped the pages! Great… "Sorry for thinking that just maybe you could like me too!" I wasn't even aware of how loudly I was speaking.

At my final words, I met Blaine's eyes forcefully. "Sorry for being so utterly _stupid _to think that someone like you could ever be interested in someone like _me_. Or that the only reason to find you attractive and interesting would be if I had some sort of _angle_."

Wiggling out of my seat and rounding the table, I clutched my bag tightly and stared back at Blaine, who was practically gaping at this sudden outburst. Even though this was just another act, there was something inside me that stirred of how close to home the words actually hit, and how naturally they came to me. It was like it was everything I'd ever wanted to say, but never known how to or to whom. Maybe to the endless line of guys - both gay and straight - who never could see me or be attracted to me in the way I was to them. Everyone always ended up seeing me - sooner or later - as the gay guy who had too many features resembling a girl to ever be seen as the guy I actually was. And I was sick of it.

Something in the depth of Blaine's golden eyes told me that what I'd said actually had made an impact on him. There were flashes of remorse and sorrow carefully shielded behind the exterior he always put up. But if my words would make him soften, I didn't stay to find out. Instead, I took the opportunity for a dramatic exit and rushing out. What can I say, I'm a fan of drama. It wasn't like Blaine tried to stop me or anything.

As I lay in bed that evening, twisting and turning for what must have been the eighth time, thoughts seemed to be everywhere. I tried to keep most of them out, such as _what am I even doing?_ but others seemed more determined to make themselves heard. One thought was particularly attached to the spark of admiration I had seen in Blaine's eyes after we broke the heated kiss in the library. _What if I fall for him?_

Shaking my head, I turned in the bed again, flopping onto my stomach in a very uncomfortable - but surprisingly soothing - position. There was no way I'd ever fall for that guy. Sure, he was drop dead gorgeous and had some sort of intriguing mystery attached to him like a personal rain cloud, but there was no way I'd let myself fall in love with a guy who beat up and threatened innocent freshmen. For god's sake, they were just kids! And what for, to get respect?

It must've been past two in the morning when my head was finally dozing off into something resembling unconsciousness. As I went, two parting thoughts wandered through my brain.

_I will never allow myself to fall in love with him._

_But what if it's already happening?_

. . . . .

I didn't see Blaine for days. There was that small chance that he'd memorized my schedule by heart and purposefully avoided any hall in McKinley that might bring our paths together. Or maybe he was just ditching again. Wasn't that what every badboy did when things got a little too difficult to handle: ran away?

On the other hand, it bought me more time. Winter was crashing down hard on us - which I happily celebrated by a new knitted sweater by Marc Jacobs - and as seasons changed, so did settings. When another day of not seeing Blaine came and went, I decided to confront in one of my girls with my difficulties. I caught her by the lockers as the school emptied in the afternoon after the last class of the day.

"Give him time, Kurt," was Rachel's advice. "You've laid out the bait, you just have to give him some time to get caught by the hook."

"Thanks, Rach." I was planning on heading home when Rachel's facial expression changed and stopped me in my tracks. "What is it?"

She gnawed her lip and cast a tentative glance around the hallway before taking a step closer to me. "But…" she said, lowering her voice. "If I were you I'd call the whole thing off." I was about to snap at her when she cut me off. "All I'm saying is that there's something much bigger on the line here than wounded pride. Someone might get hurt."

I heaved a sigh. "Yes, Rachel, that's sort of the point…"

She shook her head and slammed her locker shut. Her lips were bent into one of her knowing smiles. "I wasn't talking about him. I was talking about you." She patted my shoulder before leaving me frozen on the spot in the empty hallway.

What was that supposed to mean anyway? I wasn't planning on getting hurt. How could I get hurt? This was a win-win situation on my part.

Or so I thought.

* * *

**Reviews are what keep me going!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:**

**And I'm back! **

**After getting past the initial writer's block (which held me back for far too long!) I pretty much wrote the whole chapter yesterday. But it was really late when I finished it and I had to correct read and blah so here it is now instead!**

**About this whole thing with FF deleting stories... this is on scarvesandcoffee too, under the same username :) so are my other klaine fics. **

**To** _darrencrissforeva_**: When I saw the gif set on tumblr I felt like I really wanted to write something like it, so I did. I didn't spend too much on it, just wrote what came to me and posted it right away. I guess I didn't count on it becoming such a big thing as it actually has, and I got lost because I hadn't planned _ anything_ of what I wanted to happen. I guess I was kind of fumbling in the blind (idk if that's an expression in English... probably not). But now I'm planning to keep it for a while and I've plotted out the chapters and such. Hopefully I know a little more of what I'm doing right now.****  
**

**Wow. That was... a little longer than expected. Sorry.**

* * *

. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._

_Phase 5: Getting the final push_

. . . . .

"What the hell, Pale Face?" Santana threw in my face as soon as Glee practice was over for the day. "Why do I hear the dwarf telling me that you've given up?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing that this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. "I haven't given up. I'm just thinking about it... about closing this project, I mean." I had to speak cryptically because there were still a few glee members lingering in the choir room who might overhear us as we walked toward the exit.

"So you would let _that_ _guy _win?" There was practically fume bursting from her ears, and though I knew she wouldn't be happy about it, I couldn't figure out why she was _this _upset.

I pulled her arm to stop her, and spun her around. "He didn't _win_," I spat. "I'm just thinking about quitting because it doesn't seem like a good idea anymore. Rachel was right." Then I suddenly realized what I was saying, and looked around to make sure Rachel wasn't anywhere near to hear us. "Wow, I'd... never thought I'd say those words."

Santana crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "That's where you're wrong. She's not right, not this time." Then she grew pensive. "Actually, has she _ever _been right or...?"

"Beats me." Then I shook my head forcefully. "No, but, she is. There's no way a game like this could end in a good way. She talked some sense into me on various occasions and... that's that."

We both silenced as Sam and Mercedes passed us, waving and looking awfully chirpy-cheerful. "See you guys tomorrow!" Mercedes beamed and waved her hand. Santana and I only nodded in response.

"Look, Gay Lord, I wasn't going to tell you this because I thought you were dead set on making that douchebag pay for what he's done to everyone, but..." Her voice wandered off with her mind, it seemed. Her eyes bore into mine as she tried to regain her thoughts.

"Whatever he's done this time," I said calmly but firmly, making her understand that I was dropping out no matter what she'd say, "I don't care. I honestly don't want to hear it. It's over."

I turned, making it clear that I wasn't going to linger and listen to whatever dreadful things that had happened to some poor kid because of the jerk Blaine Anderson. Maybe it was just better to let it all go and hope that the bullying would disappear with him with graduation and all. That's the conclusion Rachel had helped me come to, at least.

I had walked away and was completely sure - I was even halfway out of the room and I could feel the stinky air from the hallway when I heard Santana take a breath. As I came up to the doorframes of the choir room exit, Santana spoke.

"Not even if he is plotting on throwing you to the jocks?"

I froze. Turning around slowly, I wasn't sure of what she meant. Her eyebrow was cocked challengingly as she watched me. But I didn't approach her.

Santana walked up to me slowly, a serious expression on her face. "I can tell that you don't believe me, but that's okay. Our very own Lucky Charm heard it with his own ears when being extra nosy. Why don't you ask him?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Lucky Charm?" I wondered dully. I was feigning indifference but it was secretly eating me up what she had meant by the accusation.

"The leprechaun who can't speak English, the tall guy dressed in green, the giant from the east," she clarified with a wave of her hand.

"And he heard what, exactly?"

"Look, you're not gonna believe me anyway, so why don't we just ask him?" she said, pointing to something behind my back. As if ordered, Rory passed by in the corridor right behind us. "Come on."

We caught up with Rory, who seemed more than a little surprised by being approached. Santana wasted no time in driving a finger hard into his chest, forcing him to back up against the lockers.

"Tell him what you told me," Santana said, and even I thought she sounded threatening. "Tell me what you heard about Blaine."

"I-I..." Rory stuttered, head turning between me and Santana.

"Look, nymph, just tell us wh-"

"Santana," I warned, stepping closer. I cast a glance in either direction of the corridor, making sure no one was eavesdropping. Then I turned back to Rory. "What did you hear?"

Rory swallowed roughly and drew a deep breath. "I heard Blaine talking to some jocks after school, out by the bleachers," he began nervously, eyebrows scrunching in thought. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just tryin'a... find cheerleadin' practice." He blushed at the confession, and started to stumble on his words. "I couldn't help it, I'd heard Brittany talk about it and, y'know those short skirts... but I knew Santana would be mad if she knew I'd come out there to spy at her girlfriend, so I hid- ouch, _ouch_, I'm sorry!"

Santana had placed a hand on his shoulder at the end of his confession, gripping tightly with her long nails boring into his skin, and not seeming to want to let go. "And I _told_ you to stay away from her!"

"I know, I know," Rory said quietly. But Santana seemed to remember that this wasn't what we were here for, and loosened her grip to make him keep talking.

"What did you hear?" I asked again, this time more firmly, through gritted teeth.

Rory sighed, and his shoulders slumped as if he was trying to make himself smaller. "He said, 'that little'-bad word-'has been rubbing his'-another bad word-'all over me and I want that'-a _really _bad word-'to know-'"

"Just get to the point," I snapped, suddenly feeling very edgy.

"They called him gay and he said it wasn' his fault you were hanging over'im. Then they wen' on and on about favors and owing each other stuff - I didn't get half of it. Then Blaine said that he could make you follow'im to the bleachers after school the next day so that they could beat you up an' show you your place and..." The words were coming so fast out of Rory's mouth and, together with the accent, it made it really hard to follow everything he was saying. But it didn't matter, because I had heard enough.

"Thank you," I snapped, turning on my heel and storming off.

"Before you start raging..." Santana interrupted my thoughts, coming up at my side with her famous bitch-smirk. She was all too pleased about this. "Well? What do you wanna do?"

I came to a halt, crossing my arms over my chest and biting my lip so hard that I almost drew blood. "Game's still on," I said, nodding.

_Damn, Anderson. You just made this personal._

. . . .

Blankets were everywhere, scattered around the floor in piles with pillows and empty fast food cartons. We were at Mercedes' house for a girly sleepover; me, Mercedes, Rachel, Santana, Quinn and Brittany. Tina was supposed to come too, but there was something coming in the way involving Mike's parents. Even so, the night had been tremendously pleasant. We had finished two pizzas and started on the various Chinese takeouts when Santana and Brittany started to make out on the couch. Rachel laughed, Quinn scoffed awkwardly, Mercedes told them to get a room, and I... well, I was just jealous. Even thought I'd been with Seth, it hadn't meant anything. I wanted a boyfriend who loved me like Santana and Brittany loved each other. Always had, always would.

Somehow, Mercedes' bichon frisé had found our leftover stash of pizza crust and eaten until she threw up. It wasn't pretty. Quinn had offered to go with Mercedes when she took the poor thing out for a walk, and they left the four of us alone in the house with an order to behave (although I'm positive that was only directed toward Brittany and Santana).

Brittany kept asking Santana to take her out to see the stars because they were so pretty. Even though it was a cloudy night, Santana gave up after the third time she was asked. Bet she just couldn't turn her girlfriend down.

That left me and Rachel on the floor, leaning back against the couch while Rent played on the TV. I was caught up in my mind and wasn't really watching, but it was relaxing in a strange way just zoning out and listening to Rachel hum along to the tunes.

"I got his number," Rachel said suddenly, being very close to my ear.

"Oh," I responded, remembering what she was talking about. When I had informed her of what Blaine had said and that I was continuing with the game after all, Rachel had seemed to make a decision too. And that was to help me. She said she would ask Finn to ask around for Blaine's number (with as much discretion as he could muster, of course). I hadn't actually thought that anything would come out of it, but apparently I was wrong.

Rachel stretched over the floor to reach her leather purse, scrambling around for a bit before catching a small note of striped, worn paper. I took it as she held it out to me, and I unfolded it in my hands. I didn't recognize the handwriting the numbers were printed in, so it wasn't Rachel's or Finn's writing. I didn't think much about it though, only grabbed my phone off the coffee table and added the number to my contacts.

"Thanks," I said as I typed. _B-l-a-i-n-e_. Without thinking too much, I sent him a message right away.

_You up sexy boy? I wanna talk._

It wasn't until after I sent it that I checked what time it was. Already past midnight. That didn't keep him from replying after only a minute though.

..._Is this who I think it is?_

I smiled.

_Glad you're thinking about me ;)_

"No problem," Rachel suddenly said from my side.

I tore my eyes away from my phone to find her head titled as she watched me with her boring stare. "What?" I asked, my smile slowly fading from my lips.

"Nothing," she said, her voice being way too high for me to believe her. And I knew that look too well - there was definitely something she wasn't telling me.

I was about to reply, but instead let out a burst of giggles as the phone I'd placed on my lap started buzzing.

Rachel smiled at me. "Go get your boy!" she teased, slapping my arm before standing up and walking toward the kitchen. I raised my eyebrow questioningly at her choice of words, but she was already walking away.

Instead, I turned back to my phone.

_Hummel? What do you want?_

Instead of replying, I pressed the call button and brought the phone to my ear. My heart was beating fast (why was I nervous?) and I stood up and started pacing the room. I listened intently to the slow and steady tones on the other end.

"Hello?" The voice was rough and low as it answered. _Godsosexy. _

"Well, hello to you, too," I replied, making my way over to the window bench, cuddling up among the Indian pillows in green and pink. I hugged my knees to my chest as I silently begged for my heart to still. It was only Blaine, after all. _The guy who planned on getting my ass kicked_, I reminded myself. Can't get side-tracked.

"Is there a reason why you're calling me?" he asked, straight to the point.

"I've been staring at girls making out all night," I whined. "I need more gay in my life!"

Blaine let out a laugh, and then lowered his voice. "Oh, so you're... horny?" There was some rustling on the other end.

I tried to contain my smile at his tone of voice, curious and almost eager. He was just too easy to play with. "Like you wouldn't believe."

There was a tiny pause, then Blaine let out a steady breath. "God, me too."

"We should get together sometime," I teased. "We could do some pretty mean stuff."

I must say it surprised me when I heard the little gasp on the other end. It wasn't _are you still so straightforward? _or even _you are so scandalous! _but-

"_Oh my god_, you are totally jacking off right now, aren't you?" I accused, knowing the sounds all too well.

"Shut up, don't laugh at me! You're scaring my little friend away!"

I couldn't help it, but I was suddenly seized by the ridiculousness of it all that I started laughing.

"I said stop it!" Blaine whined, but he was laughing too.

"Okay, okay." I straightened up in my seat and crossed my legs in front of me, concentrating like I was about to perform an important test. "I'll stop laughing."

"Mhm..." Blaine hummed, not sounding convinced. "But you're not allowed to laugh at me because I'm home alone for the first time in months and, well... I wasn't planning on having phone calls."

"What is your middle name?" I blurted out.

"My middle name?" Blaine asked, sounding confused.

"Just tell me!"

"...It's Charles."

"..._Charles_?"

"I told you to stop laughing..."

I hadn't even realized I was. "God, sorry. I'm not laughing at your name it's just, I was planning on doing the whole motherly 'Blaine Charles Anderson, are you watching _pornos_?' but that would just be weird. I mean, who named Charles even watches pornos?"

"That would be me..."

"Obviously." I looked out the window and saw a little white dog running across the front lawn of the house, seeming to be just fine. After it came two girls I'd recognize anywhere. I started picking on a thread on my jeans and closed my eyes as I said, "So, do you want help?" Then, after I didn't get an answer, quickly added, "I mean, I scared off your buddy, it's the least I can do."

Blaine chucked softly, and when the chuckles grew into soft breathing I knew I'd gotten my answer.

"The thing about blowjobs," I found myself saying, "isn't about the initial pleasure. Sure, the hot and wet mouth working up and down your cock is _fantastic_." Blaine moaned. I felt myself growing hard at the sound, but I tried to ignore it and focus on my words. "But it's later, when you're so close and you think it can't possibly get any better... and they start humming, and the vibrations just makes you lose your mind. Then you're coming, fast and hard, down their throat. And they just _suck_. _Mmm_…" I hummed softly, listening to the other end as the whimpers turned into throaty moans. God, those sounds were hot. I had to use all my willpower not to start stroking myself. I was in Mercedes' house for gods sakes! And they were about to come back inside.

The moans subsided and all that was left was deep breathing. "Was it good?" I asked sensually.

The answer was quiet, but it came instantly. "The best."

"I can't wait to talk to you again, but I better be off now." For some strange reason, I was feeling reluctant to hang up. But I also knew that if I didn't before the others were back, I'd get tons of annoying questions.

"You're going to sleep?" If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say Blaine sounded a bit disappointed about that too.

"Well, that's sort of what you do at a sleepover..."

"Oh... right. I was just hoping that maybe we could talk? I wanted- I wanted to say sorry. About... before." Blaine stumbled over his words, sounding as if he'd never apologized before.

I smiled to myself. So my stunt had worked after all. "There's always tomorrow," I reminded him.

"There is," he agreed softly. "Goodnight, Kurt."

"Goodnight."

Unbeknownst to me, Rachel had watched me during my conversation with Blaine. She was feeling particularly worried about the smile tugging at my lips throughout the conversation. She'd brought the newly gotten glass of water to her lips and sipped it slowly, watched me laugh out loud at something. She couldn't hear what I was saying, but she didn't have to. Just seeing me made her even more sure of what she'd already suspected.

. . . .

Blaine was lying on his bed, still coming down from his high. A dopy smile was placed on his lips, his eyelids were just perfectly heavy. The voice he'd just been listening to was still palpable to his ears, so soft and so perfect. Blaine sighed blissfully. Tonight couldn't have ended in a better way. How did he get to be so lucky?

* * *

**If you wanna make me happy, there's one simple way of doing it!**

**See that little blue button down there? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - v**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N.**

**This chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, but it worked better that way because the next one is gonna be more eventful than this.**

* * *

. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._**  
**

_Phase 6: Getting him hooked_

. . . . .

The following Monday was a drag. From the moment my alarm clock decided to blare at a _way _too early hour, I realized that the day would be horrible. Since I hadn't had the good sense of going to bed at a reasonable hour (I really wanted to win that Liz Taylor jewelry auction…), I was craving the coffee as I woke up half an hour late. Of course, this was the day the coffee machine had decided to break. So, without coffee, with no time for breakfast and only a quick version of my morning skin care routine, I finally went to school.

I entered my first class just as the last bell rang, but since I was so tired, I spent the most of the class dozing off. The day continued in the same fashion, but I was too tired to care. I figured I'd just ask Rachel or Mercedes later what we were doing that day.

The bell had just rung out from the last class of the day, and I was leaning my head against my locker door with eyes closed and head pounding. I was really not used to being up all night; one night short of sleep and I felt like I was getting sick.

Someone cleared their throat next to me, making my eyes fly up in surprise. Standing next to me, watching me intently, was Blaine. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, open to expose the baby blue t-shirt hugging his chest tightly. He was twisting his hands nervously as he leaned back against the lockers, a hard look on his face. His thick eyebrows were pulled together as he threw glances at the remaining people in the hallway. What caught my attention, though, was his hair. Blaine's always perfectly styled and slightly curly hair looked ridiculous as it now was flattened out completely by a ton of hair gel.

"Did you want something?" I asked, feeling annoyed with nothing in particular.

Blaine turned his head at my tone of voice. His nervousness seemed to fade by the second, and instead growing annoyed himself.

"Look, Hummel, I'm sorry for what I said, okay?" Blaine spat. "I didn't think it would hurt your feelings or whatever. Shit." He crossed his arms over his chest and pressed his lips into a firm line as he glared at a couple of girls walking by us.

"Apology accepted," I replied dryly. I started to get my things from my locker and waited for Blaine to leave. Except... he didn't.

"I was wondering…" Blaine begun, speaking quieter. "If you'd like to get coffee, or something."

I closed my locker and quirked an amused eyebrow at him. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Blaine shrugged. For a moment, I could look deeply into his eyes and see the uncertainty in them, the insecurity and the scared guy who was positive that he'd get hurt. But quickly Blaine covered it up by his hard exterior, clenching his jaws together. It was like the wall he'd let down for a second was being brought up higher and tighter than ever before.

"If you don't like coffee, then just forget it," Blaine bellowed and walked away.

I had to quicken my pace to catch up with him, effectively pulling him to a stop when I hooked my arm in his. "I love coffee," I smiled. Blaine didn't smile back though, just stared at me in astonishment. "I was thinking we could go to-"

"Um, no," Blaine interrupted softly. "There was actually somewhere I'd like to take you, if that's okay."

"Of course," I beamed. "Just lead the way."

. . . .

Twenty minutes and a lot of traffic later, I pulled into a parking lot after Blaine's motorcycle for the coffee place at the outskirts of town called the Lima Bean. I had been there once or twice during my period of ogling Dalton boys; it was apparently a common prep-school hangout. I was curious as to why Blaine had brought me to this particular place.

We walked into the coffee shop together under silence. The queue wasn't too bad, only a couple of people ahead of us. But there was still an awkward silence as we waited in the line. I looked at the menu to avoid the awkwardness, and made attempt to small talk.

"Do you know what you're getting?" I asked, eyes skimming through the various coffee orders.

"Uh, a Large Drip," Blaine said, sounding distracted.

I looked up to see that he wasn't looking ahead anymore, instead to the side of the coffee shop where a group of guys wearing the familiar Dalton uniform were seated. Blaine quickly averted his eyes as he realized I'd caught him staring at them. We both stepped forward in the moving line, but not before I noticed one of the guys at the Dalton table turning his head away from their conversation and met eyes with me. The guy then flicked his eyes to my side, and he raised his eyebrows with an amused smirk placed firmly on his lips as he saw Blaine.

I leaned closer to Blaine, lowering my voice so that no one would overhear. "Do you know those guys?" I asked subtly.

Blaine shook his head and began to order his coffee.

"One Large Drip for me, and… sorry, what did you want?" The last part was directed to me.

"Uh, uh, I, uh," I stammered, being so distracted by the guy from Dalton that I'd forgotten to decide what I wanted. I quickly looked at the menu again, getting the first best thing my eyes landed on. "Um, a Non-Fat Mocha? Grande?" I wasn't sure why I said it as a question.

Having my order told, I was about to scout for a vacant table. But when I heard Blaine speak again, I stopped in my tracks.

"-to go," Blaine added. When he saw my surprised look, he let out a small laugh. "You didn't think a tedious coffee shop was what I wanted to show you, did you?" he teased.

I still wasn't sure that was it, and quickly darted my eyes back to the guys from before.

"It's not about them," Blaine said quickly, harshly. He sighed and let his shoulders drop. "It's not."

"Okay," I replied, letting it go. For now. We walked together to get our coffees, and soon were walking back out towards the door and leaving the place behind. But we weren't fast enough.

"Blaine! Hey, Blaine!" A voice called from behind. I turned to see the guy who's been looking before, but when I turned back to Blaine, he had already sped up.

Blaine noticed me hesitate, but only barely. "Let's just go, please," he begged, grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers with mine to pull me along. The horror in those wide and shiny eyes were enough for me to nod and speed up. I was surprised that Blaine had initiated the contact in such a public place, but judging by the look on his face, he wasn't really thinking of what he was doing.

The crisp air outside the coffee shop hit me hard in the face as we stumbled out, and I had to pull my jacket closer around myself to keep warm. However, Blaine didn't slow down like I did. He surprised me again when he kept rushing across the parking lot in the opposite direction of my car and his bike instead of toward them.

"Blaine, where are you going?" I called after him, hurrying to catch up while trying to take a sip of my coffee at the same time. I had gone the _whole day_ without coffee, you can't blame me. But I got no reply.

There was a wide ditch next to the edge of the forest that Blaine seemed to be following, so I followed him quietly for the rest of the walk, trusting him that he knew what he was doing. Soon enough, the forest on the other side of the ditch cleared and revealed a large field covered in yellow, dried grass.

Wondering when we would reach our stop, Blaine suddenly sat down halfway down the ditch, which was covered in the same yellowish grass. It looked really uncomfortable to sit on, and it was probably really cold too. But Blaine sat down anyway, and when he did so he looked relieved. I followed his lead, sliding down next to him on the tilting ground.

There was a small stream of water trickling below us, looking like a baby brook. The whole place looked so cold and barren, I had a hard time finding its immediate appeal.

"No one ever comes out here," Blaine mused, his voice breaking the silence. "I guess that's what makes it a good place to think and just be alone for a while."

I nodded and warmed my hands on my paper cup. "So this is like your 'place'?"

"I suppose." Blaine sipped his coffee, and I didn't miss the way his lips reddened from the heat.

Then something hit me, the underlying meaning boiling right under the surface. "You've never brought anyone else here before, have you?"

Blaine shook his head and finally met my eyes with such an intensity that I couldn't have looked away even if I had wanted to. He reached down to re-attach out hands, and lifted them both to place small kisses to each of my knuckles. The small loving gesture took my breath away - it was almost overwhelming of how amazing such simplicity could feel.

Blaine put his coffee aside and laid down with his back to the ground. I did the same, while keeping our hands in each other's between us, being the only part of our bodies touching. His large hand was arm around my cold one. The ground was firm beneath my back, but it's wasn't hard or uncomfortable like I'd first thought it would be. The grass created a sort of elastic mattress of comfort. It was all very nice.

"It's even nicer in the evening," Blaine told me, looking up to the gray and cloud-clad sky. "There are no city lights nearby, so nothing fades out the stars. Unless it's cloudy, of course. Obviously it's nicer in the summer when it isn't so cold and the creek's bigger and the crickets-"

His voice faded as he looked back at me and saw me staring at him, as opposed to up at the sky like he'd probably expected me to. I could see that he was trying to fight back a smile as his eyes met mine. "What?"

"You're so beautiful."

_Nothing. I have to go. It's getting late. We should probably stop seeing each other_. All of those phrases were at the tip of my tongue, but instead I had blurted out the one I really shouldn't have said. It was the one I had wanted to say, which was the reason why I shouldn't have said it. Because if it was just a part of the game then it would've been a great asset to my advantage. But that wasn't it. I wanted to say it because it was _true_. And that was bad. Very bad.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered sincerely.

_It didn't hit me then, that it was probably the first time someone had actually said that to him. The first time that it had counted. _

He scooted closer on the bank until our shoulders were touching, and stretched his neck until he was close enough to kiss me. I rolled over to my side to give him easier access, and sighed into his mouth because of how good the simple gesture felt. The kiss wasn't urged, it wasn't rushed. It was small and simple; a contact that was dragged-out simply because we couldn't get enough of it.

Being with Blaine was easy, simple. It made my heart warm and my stomach flutter. Overall it was just _nice_.

Too nice for my own good.

* * *

**Thanks again for reading!**

**Please review :) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy New Year!**

**Last chapter, Blaine asked Kurt out for coffee. They went to the Lima Bean, where there was a guy who seemed to recognize Blaine. Blaine brought Kurt to his favorite spot by the riverbank.**

* * *

. . . . .

**How I Took Blaine Anderson's Virginity**

_- a story by Kurt Hummel._

Phase 7: Into his mind

. . . . .

As I walked down the hallway, the unmistakable sounds of metal chains and leather cracking were echoing in the distance. I stopped and smiled to myself, before stepping around the corner and approaching the door to the gym.

The room was clad with dirty yellow tiles, with bummed, red tiles forming a horizontal line along the walls. Furthest into the room, behind the machines covered in dried sweat and invisible germs, was the punching bag in red leather. It was so worn and used that it had several rounds of duct tape plastered at the top. It looked even bigger now with the short person standing next to it, throwing punches like his life depended on it.

"You can punch all you want," I quipped, making him stop abruptly and turn his head, "but he won't break down and cry on you."

I smirked at my own joke, but Blaine only raised his pierced eyebrow at me.

He took a couple of steps to put an arm around the bag to still it, and ended up keeping it there. His skin was glistering with sweat pearls, and _damn_, diamonds had nothing on that skin. He put his weight on one leg, popping his hip out, and tilted his head to the side with a small sigh.

Did he even realize how beautiful he was? How completely gorgeously his every feature mashed together to the exterior perfection of what was _Blaine_?

"Did you want something, Hummel?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

His tone didn't indicate annoyance or that he was tired of me or any of that sort of thing. It was simply uttered as a question, very much alike one traded between two friends, and it was laced with a faint curiosity and kindness.

It sounded so normal.

When I didn't answer right away, Blaine let out another sigh and turned back to the punching bag. The thin, white tank top with wet trails on the front and back clung tightly to his muscles. His arms were tan and the muscles were flexing as he continued to punch the bag with all his might. The look on his face was stern, like he had to focus immensely on the task.

"I didn't see you in chemistry today," I said finally, watching him move.

Blaine only grunted affirmatively, not missing a beat with his punches.

Something connected in my mind then, something I'd been wondering about for a while.

"Is this where you go every time you skip class?" I asked incredulously. "To go _boxing_?"

"Not _every _time," Blaine retorted with a smile, stilling the bag again, this time with both of his hands. "But mostly, yeah."

"Why?"

_I didn't really think of it then, why I asked to know more about it. Later I realized that it was because I was trying to figure him out. There were just so many things about the way he acted that didn't make sense, and I was intrigued by him._

Blaine frowned and broke eye contact as he went into thought, placing his gaze somewhere in the room above my head, if not further than that. He thought for quite a while, and I was almost certain he wouldn't answer me.

But then he turned back to me with a small smile. "I'll show you."

. . . . .

"Are you ready? Focus."

Blaine had his hands sprawled out on either side of the boxing sack. He was gripping it tightly, hands clad in white handwraps while he looked at me intently.

"So, I just… punch?" I asked stupidly.

Blaine, being caught off guard by my question when I stood with my hands raised and face focused, started laughing. When he saw me staring back in confusion, he silenced and cleared his throat. "You can start with a right hook."

"Right hook, okay…" I shook my right hand a little, and felt the too-big glove wiggle on my hand. I narrowed my eyes and bit my lower lip, an action which seemed to catch Blaine's attention without him even noticing it himself. But I did.

"Okay, let's do this," I muttered encouragingly under my breath. Then I tensed and pulled back my right arm, and threw it out right in front of me in full speed. My clad fist hit the bag hard, and it almost felt like my knuckles were breaking. The bag, however, didn't seem to share my opinion. It barely wobbled under my punch.

Eyes widening in surprise, I stared at the bag. I stared at it until I heard a muffled snickering erupting. I diverted my eyes and saw Blaine, the corners of his eyes crinkled and a hand pressed to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

He removed his hand as soon as he saw me looking, though. "I'm sorry," he said while his shoulders shook with the remaining laughter, "I'm not laughing at you, just the look… the look on your… your face…" And then his mouth turned into a big grin as he let himself keep on laughing.

"Oh, stop it," I said, punching his arm.

But Blaine just kept laughing like it was the funniest thing ever.

"Are you done?" I snapped.

That seemed to get his attention, and he wiped the corner of his eye.

"Okay, what am I doing wrong?" I asked, trying to move the focus away from my lame punch.

"Nothing, really," Blaine said. "You just got to use more force, get your whole body to throw the punch, not just your arm or your hand. And you have to put your head to it." He dropped his last hand from the punching sack and walked around it until he was standing behind me.

He surprised me when he put his hands on my hips, so much that I almost stopped breathing. He seemed to notice me stiffening, and gulped audibly.

"Put your left leg in front of your body," he said, and his voice was so deep and low right next to my ear. "Put your right leg behind you, and spread them wide." By this point I wasn't sure if it was his words or his hands squeezing my hips or his breaths blowing down my neck that caused my body to send sparks through my whole body and somehow made them gather and intensify at my crotch.

In a matter of seconds, the temperature in the room had risen by a hundred degrees.

Blaine pushed his body up against my back, lining us up perfectly. And I thought I was going to pass out when he started turning his hips back and forth. "Move your hips like this," he whispered into my ear, while gently squeezing my hips with his hands to guide me through his movements.

He slowly moved his hands up my body, sliding them against the fabric of my button up and vest and up to grab my arms. The touches were so gentle yet determined that I couldn't help but to be turned on. It had been so long since someone had touched me, and that gesture felt so oddly intimate. He pulled my arms up from my sides and held on to my wrists as he went through the techniques of throwing a good punch. I have to admit that I didn't pay much attention because it all turned out like a haze of touches and caresses and gently spoken words. By the time his hands found their way back to my hips, I could swear that Blaine was starting to get hard against my ass. I was feeling extremely light-headed.

So when Blaine told me again to throw a punch, I had to blink a few times before realizing that I should probably move.

"Connect to your anger," Blaine said quietly. "Feel that undying fire deep within consume you and let go. Take all of that, and throw it on the bag. Take it out on the bag."

I did what he said, thought about Karofsky and the other bullies, thought about every time I'd been called names and pushed into lockers and thrown into dumpsters. I felt the anger build up inside me, and before I knew it, I was punching the boxing sack repeatedly, with both of my hands. When it didn't move enough, I punched it harder. I was so focused on making the sack feel as bad as I had felt that I almost didn't notice when Blaine slowly backed away from behind me.

Almost.

I immediately stopped boxing, and looked at him. He had his hands put together and resting against his mouth, almost like he was praying.

He let his hands drop. "That was great!" he said breathlessly, his eyes shining with something that looked like pride.

"You think?" I asked modestly.

"Yeah, I do." Blaine smiled at me for a minute, then turned his eyes down to his hands and started removing his handwraps. He was moving so slowly, like he was afraid that a too sudden movement would burst the bubble that had wrapped us up.

And then I understood.

"Is that why you box?" I asked carefully. "To relieve anger?"

Blaine nodded, but didn't say anything else.

I busied myself with removing my own gloves, and winced as the smell of old sweat hit my nose.

"That's why I box," Blaine concluded after a moment, still watching his hands. "I get so much crap all the time that it's the only thing that helps when hurting others doesn't." He suddenly looked up into my eyes. "I don't like hurting people, even if that's what you think. I don't like doing it, but have to do it. I just have to."

I thought of his words for a second and tried to make sense of them before realizing that I had no idea what he meant. "I don't get it," I said, feeling irritation build up inside. "You don't have to push around other people to make yourself feel better. In fact, you shouldn't. It's stuff like that that makes people feel like crap, even what makes some people commit _suicide._"

Blaine sighed tiredly and went to take a seat by one of the benches. I followed and sat down next to him.

"I don't want to be bullied," Blaine confessed. "I've seen it, you know. Seen _you_. I know about the jocks; they're all privileged assholes. I couldn't ever be like you, Kurt. Don't you get it? I could never live in constant fear, jump at every locker slamming shut... I wouldn't bear it. Especially not if they were coming after me, then what? I'm just supposed to take it?" Blaine shook his head. "It's not me, it's not what I do."

"I'm not asking you to do any of those things, Blaine," I said sternly, putting one of my hands above his on the bench between us. "I'm just telling you to stop going after the people that have done nothing to you."

Blaine sighed deeply, letting his shoulders slump. "If I'd stop…" he said, looking away, "they'd stop showing me respect. The jocks, I mean. I'm having a hard enough time batting them off as it is."

_Is that why you were going to hand me to them? _I didn't ask.

"I don't know what to say, other than what I would do if I were you." I racked my brain, tried to think of a compromise. "If you stopped bullying the innocent, you could still stand up to the jocks. I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to punch Karofsky or Azimio in the face."

Blaine smiled even though it looked like he was trying not to.

"It could be a compromise if you, as you say, don't like hurting people," I said.

Blaine's smile faded. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"And why not?" A thought hit me then. "Is it the same reason you won't admit that you're gay?"

Blaine's head snapped up, his eyes meeting mine. They were a shade darker than they usually were. "I know I'm gay, and I'm okay with it, alright?"

"Then why aren't you out?"

"I can't be out, Kurt! I can't be bullied. If the school knew… they might call me parents. And they can't do that."

I sensed that we were getting close to the truth. "I'm guessing your parents don't know?"

Blaine scoffed and looked away, and I knew I'd gotten my answer.

"You know, when I came out to my dad, I was so scared," I said, trying to tell him it was okay. "I was scared of what he'd think or say, but in the end he just hugged me and told me he'd love me no matter what. I realized I'd just been silly worrying so much."

"Yeah, well then you were lucky," Blaine said quietly.

"You think they wouldn't be okay with it?" I asked. When Blaine didn't answer, I bit my lip. "You know, telling someone you're gay isn't just hard for you, it's hard for them too. If you think they would react badly then just remember that you gotta give them some time. I mean, I don't know about you but for me it took some time to be okay with it myself. So maybe expecting our parents to be okay with it right away isn't really fair of us."

Blaine drew a shaky breath. "What you're describing would probably be accurate for my mom," he said slowly, pausing. "But not my dad."

I instantly reached my other hand out to cup Blaine's cheek, turning his face to mine. "Does he… hit you?"

Blaine's jaw tensed as he clenched his teeth, his face hardening. "Not without reason."

"Oh, Blaine…" I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," Blaine said hollowly. Then, he surprised us both by leaning in and kissing my lips softly. He pulled back instantly with a wet smack, and he brought a hand up to trace the line of my lower lip.

"You know, when I think about it," he said, sounding less distraught than before, "I've always been really sneaky."

I couldn't help but to smile. But I wasn't left wondering for long what he meant, because he quickly leaned in to kiss me again. I responded instantly, pressing my lips harder on his and pushing myself up until I was straddling his lap. I threaded my fingers into his thick hair, ignoring that I was getting gel on my hands as my body's urges got a deeper and deeper control over me. When Blaine opened his lips under mine and cautiously poked his tongue out, I was beyond all sorts of self-control.

Blaine's hands traveled south on my back until they landed on my hips with a light squeeze. That's when I released one of my hands from the stickiness of Blaine's hair gel and brought it down on top of Blaine's hand. I took it in mine and moved it backward until it was resting right on my ass.

Blaine gave my ass a tentative squeeze without me doing anything, and the motion set sparks flying down south. My hips stuttered forward on their own, into Blaine's hips. Blaine moaned against my lips as our half-hard cocks pushed together roughly.

I broke the kiss with a low groan, breathing hard. Blaine looked up at me with dark eyes through his impossibly thick eyelashes, blinking almost innocently. Of course, his red and swollen lips didn't make him look as innocent.

When I raised my eyes slightly, my line of sight was just aligned with Blaine's eyebrow piercing. It was the same silvery one he always had and I remembered an urge I'd had before. Meeting Blaine's expectant eyes, I leaned closer, and traced the piercing hard with the tip of my tongue. It was cool and salty, and Blaine moaned at the feeling of my wet tongue on him.

_If he only knew what my tongue could do_, I thought smugly.

That's when the sound connected to my brain, the sound of a door slamming out in the corridor, and the sound of footsteps approaching. Blaine heard it too a second later and quickly pushed me away until I was sitting on the bench next to him, panting and wondering what just had happened.

We sat there, trying to compose ourselves while we waited. A few seconds later, Coach Beiste walked by the open doorway.

It only took a second before she was walking by again, this time backwards, and poked her head through the doorway.

"Oh, hey boys," Beiste said and smiled. "I didn't know anyone was still here." Though she looked confused to see me there, she didn't ask about it.

"Just make sure to put all the equipment back before you leave," was all she said before she left.

I looked over at Blaine, who was looking a little distant. I moved closer to him, wincing as the sweaty clothes I was wearing started to cling to my body.

"Hey," I said, putting my hand on Blaine's cheek and making his eyes meet mine. He smiled at the gesture, but it was a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I better go shower," he said, and turned his head slightly to lay a small kiss to the inside of my palm before getting up from the bench.

. . . . .

I wished that I'd been psychic, so that I could have foreseen that Blaine would ask me to box with him and know to bring a towel and an extra change of clothing. But, well, I wasn't psychic, so I ended up leaving the locker room in sweaty clothes. Blaine and I shared goodbyes, and if I'd hoped to catch a glimpse of him stripping I must've been ridiculous, because Blaine didn't start removing his clothes before he was absolutely sure I was out of the room. What a shame.

Although, I was pretty sure that I wasn't supposed to think it was a shame. I could no longer deny to myself that I wanted to see Blaine naked, and badly.

I was still thinking about him as I unlocked the front door to my house. I heard my dad in the living room, and he was talking to someone. Frowning, I closed the door behind me, trying to think of the last time Dad had brought someone over. Sure, he had friends, but usually he met them over at their houses or somewhere else. It was a rarity that he'd bring Doug or Stan over, because he knew that I didn't much enjoy when they hogged the living room TV with whatever game was on.

Walking into the living room, I was shocked to see neither Doug nor Stan there with my dad. He wasn't alone though; there was a woman with him.

"Burt…" the woman said quietly, darting her eyes to me.

That's when my dad turned and saw me, and got out of his seat. He stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. "Kurt, I'd like you to meet Carole. Her son Finn goes to your school. Do you know him?"

I shook hands with Carole, having a bad feeling in my stomach. "_Rachel's boyfriend_ Finn?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, Finn has a girlfriend named Rachel," Carole said softly.

"Kiddo," Dad said. "I didn't wanna tell you anythin' until I was sure, which is why I've been a bit distant lately. But I've been seein' Carole for almost four months now. Yesterday I asked her to move in. And she said yes."

* * *

**Okay, so, an explanation for this. **

**I guess everyone has forgotten about this story by now. I don't blame you. I know I suck. BUT it was always my plan to finish this story, and I intend to do just that. There are about 3 chapters + an epilogue left after this one.**

**If you're tired of me and my sucky updates though, feel free to stop by later to read it when it's finished. It will MOST DEFINITELY be finished before summer of 2013 is over. I'll try to be quicker, but that's all I can promise as I'm about to start my last semester of high school. It will be busy. BUT I wanted you guys to get an update before we got into the new year, as a little gift from me to you. **

**I hope you're all well, and I'll see you soon!**


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